Claimed & Bred by My Dad's Best Friend: Claimed & Bred, #2

By December Drake

I'm supposed to be starting college soon, but I'm too busy worrying about our family farm going up for sale. I certainly didn't need this new trouble. From him. Adam. My dad's old military friend, fresh out the Marines, and looking mouthwateringly good. And he's staring at me like I'm his dinner.

I try to keep my distance, but he won't let me. As he takes me repeatedly, he wants me to understand one thing: I belong to him now. No one can stop him from claiming me, and nothing else matters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: December Drake
• Release date: Nov 8, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223285069

December Drake

December Drake writes short stories and novellas about aggressive men forcefully claiming, breeding, and using women for their pleasure. Most of her stories are spicy; some are even sweet. And others are just plain dark. If any of that sounds intriguing, you're welcome to visit her at www.decemberdrake.com, where you'll find links for all of her stories, including those too spicy or dark for many retail outlets. You can also sign up for her newsletter at www.decemberdrake.com/newsletter, to stay updated on new releases and promotions.

Book preview

Chapter One

THE For Sale sign in front of our farm made my eyes sting, as it always did. I made sure to park my old Ford truck right in front of our house, blocking it from view.

The farm had been my mom’s dream. Once, it had been my dad’s dream, too. He’d left the Marines a few years after I was born, and they’d bought the farm with their savings.

After my mom died, it became a source of comfort for me. I could see all of her dreams in the worn buildings and overgrown fields. But for my dad, the farm was just a painful memory. He was ready to move on.

Well, it was still my dream. And I’d be damned if I’d let him take it from me.

I would use the little bit of money that Mom had left me, as a down payment to buy the farm. I’d finished high school last spring, and it was supposed to be my college fund.

As far as Dad was concerned, I was on my way to college in fall. But I’d actually be in the next town, taking courses on animal husbandry and commercial livestock production.

I had a solid plan, but I’d never convince him until he saw how serious I was.

The vinyl phone number on the sale sign had started to fade and chip. I was more than happy to send it on its way faster. After slamming out of my truck, I hastily scrubbed at it with my thumbnail.

The phone number was so chipped now that any potential buyer would have to guess where to call.

I pulled my empty egg crate from the truck bed and trudged to the hen house to put it away. We still had a handful of chickens and ducks regularly laying eggs. I couldn’t sell them; the farm was in disrepair and would never pass inspection.

But the church in town was more than happy to accept them as a donation. They used them in their baked goods and at the soup kitchen.

The journey to and from the hen house was a bit more tedious than usual in my sandals and sundress, but we had a guest coming today.

Dad had said his best friend Adam would visit for a few days. They’d met in the military, but Adam had stayed in, until his retirement last month.

Adam had stopped by a few times when Mom was alive, but I’d been too young, then. I only remembered calling him